Truth And Dare
by bewdifuldragon
Summary: Mikasa's first experience with ToD isn't a pleasant one, and she'd rather be anywhere but here. One of these statements is probably a lie. Maybe even both of them. Impliedish!Rivamika.


**So, after approximately one thousand years of this request sitting in my inbox, I've finally completed something upload-worthy. Nobody is happier about this than me. Please don't forget to review/share/do all the thing that keep fic writers like me warm and cozy at night by providing on-the-spot instant validation and a fragile sense of self worth, and in return I'll continue making these shitty fics. Sound like a deal? :D**

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Mikasa looked at the expectant faces of each of her comrades, wondering how in the hell she'd gotten into this mess.

Oh, but she knew the answer all too well. It had started, as many of the crazy things in her life did, with a bet between Jean and Eren. They'd been competing at breakfast over who could be the most daring – and somehow that dumb contest had gotten way out of hand during the course of the day, drawing in more and more participants; some, like Mikasa, unwilling.

Then Sasha had to go and ' _acquire_ ' some alcohol from the higher-ups. Krista had suggested that, if they were to drink, they ought to do it together in a safe environment, and Ymir and Reiner had tripped over themselves suggesting this place and that. Now the evening was drawing in and the 104th, along with a few welcome gatecrashers, were gathered in the commissary in a circle on the ground, playing perhaps the single most juvenile game in history – truth or dare. Or, as Mikasa's experience so far would know it, "who are you in love with?" or "crazy borderline-erotic task that will only serve to humiliate you and amuse everybody else".

So far, she'd managed to get off nearly scot-free with two Truth questions she'd tiptoed around, and a few sips of wine. She hadn't particularly liked the taste, but she'd be lying if she said she hated the pleasant haze it put in her head. She was far from intoxicated, but she was a little buzzed. She decided to not make a habit of it though – her reflexes were now slower, and she'd be near useless in a sudden fight – not that she had a reason to expect one. But what a stupid thing to compromise her faculties for!

It seemed her luck was running out though, because it was her turn to face the dreaded question once again, and something told her this round wouldn't be so easy.

"Truth."

She was bombarded with groans and cries of, "Come on! You've done that already!" and "I expected more from you!"

So with a resigned sigh, she whispered, "Fine then. Dare," and waited to receive the verdict.

Wicked grins were exchanged around the circle. Mikasa Ackerman was arguably the most reserved – she never did anything wild or crazy of her own accord, and she'd _never_ be forced into it. This was a rare opportunity.

"I dare you to kiss the handsomest one of the bunch!" Jean flipped his hair. "And I think we can all agree that person is me."

"Like hell, asshole!" Eren threw an empty bottle at his head, which missed its mark and shattered on the floor behind him.

"Do the whole obstacle course with your eyes shut!" Krista offered.

"Nah, she's probably already pulled that off before. It's a dare, it should be a _little_ hard." Armin then shot Mikasa an apologetic look.

Suggestions flew until Sasha finally managed to shout over the top of everybody. "I got it, you guys! I got the perfect dare! It involves Captain Levi!"

The room fell silent. Levi was the only person her peers considered capable of matching Mikasa. He was, after all, humanity's strongest. Was Sasha going to suggest a fist fight? A race? Or perhaps something more dangerous that would likely end in bloodshed.

Then she spoke again, and Mikasa realised that she _definitely_ intended for blood to be spilled.

"Mikasa, I dare you to flirt with Levi. Bonus points if you can get him to kiss you!"

Some gasped, others started laughing. A few even clapped. Mikasa just glared.

"How about no?"

"Uh-uh! Everyone else here has done their dares!" Sasha wagged her finger. "Now you have to, too! Come on, Mikasa! Mi-ka-sa! Mi-ka-sa!"

She chanted and clapped in time and, damn them all, the rest of the group joined in. Mikasa bowed her head. They wouldn't drop the subject until she completed the freaking dare, would they?

"Fine!" she shouted, and the chanting dissolved into cheering. She stood up and brushed her clothing off, before storming out of the room, leaving words of encouragement in her wake. Someone – she didn't care to notice who – tried to follow her for "verification", but she slammed the door in their face.

Mikasa genuinely considered lying about the dare and just heading to her room instead, but she knew she'd be found out somehow, and the repercussions would be even more unbearable. So she dug her hands into her pockets and headed in the rough direction of Levi's living quarters.

Her heart was beating fast and she was nervous, and while she tried her best to attribute it to anger, alcohol, anything – she knew what it really was. It was the same feeling that caused her to stare, and kept her up at night. It invaded her dreams, occupied her daydreams, and coloured her thoughts. It inspired her and terrified her; it made no sense, and yet sometimes it felt like the only thing in the world she understood.

It was also highly _inappropriate_. Levi was her senior and her superior, and he didn't need – or want – some subordinate making googly-eyes at him. This stupid dare felt cruel, like dangling a loaf of bread in front of a hungry man, then tossing it in the trash. Giving her the opportunity to do whatever she wanted, without truly giving her what she wanted at all.

After minutes of mulling this over and seething, Mikasa made it at last to his door. She took a deep breath and knocked, determined to get this over and done with.

"What is it-?" Levi pulled the door open impatiently, dressed without his usual Wings of Freedom jacket and looking more casual than Mikasa had ever seen him. He was surprised to find her on his doorstep. "Ackerman, what are you doing here?"

Mikasa supressed the desire to run and leaned against the doorframe, pressing herself up against the solid wood. "What? I can't just call in to say hi?" Ugh, she didn't even sound like herself.

"No. I mean, not that you're not allowed, but you usually…." He trailed off. For the first time in her life, Mikasa was seeing Levi uncertain and out of his element, and surprisingly she began to enjoy herself.

"Anyway." She pushed him further into the room and invited herself in, swaying her hips gracefully. She closed the door behind her, wondering idly how far she could take this before he threw her out.

"Ah-um-" he stuttered helplessly, eyeing Mikasa as though he couldn't quite believe what was happening before his eyes. "Quite fine weather we're having?"

 _The weather? He's talking about the weather?_ Mikasa bit back a giggle. "Yes, quite fine indeed. Much like yourself, Sir, if I may be so bold." God, that was terrible. Perhaps the alcohol was having more of an effect on her than she first realised. And yet, she couldn't say she minded much.

"Ackerman…" Levi had been slowly backing off, but Mikasa had stuck close, approaching him like a predator after its prey. "You are way out of line."

Mikasa froze. Out of line? That's all he had to say? She'd expected his no-nonsense self to kick her out on her ass. Instead his breathing had turned shallow, and he seemed…almost intimidated, somehow? Whatever could that mean?

"So make me stop," she challenged. "Tell me to go away."

What an interesting turn this evening had taken. Mikasa had all but forgotten the dare, now she had Levi practically pinned against the wall. The ball was in his court, and he looked to be debating his next move very carefully. Surely, if her attraction was entirely unrequited, he would've told her to piss off by now? That one thought gave her a little bit of hope.

"Mikasa." Her name came from his lips in barely a whisper, and his mind seemed to be made up. Carefully, as though he was afraid he'd startle her, his arms moved around her waist and pulled her closer. His eyes locked onto hers and the whole world stopped. He leaned in, closing the gap between their lips inch by inch, and all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears, until finally—

He bowed his head and let out a sigh. There was a look on his face that Mikasa could only describe as disappointment. "You're drunk."

"I'm-what?" The word didn't compute in her addled brain. She was drunk, alright, but not in the way he thought. "No, I'm not!"

"Ackerman, your breath reeks of wine." He pushed her away by the shoulders. This was the part where he'd give any other soldier a thorough lecture, but instead he just gave her a look she didn't really like, although she couldn't say why.

"I only had one drink," she insisted, but he wasn't buying it.

"I should've known," he mumbled, crossing the room to get as far away from her as possible. At least, that's how it felt. "You'd never _really_ do something like this. How stupid…"

Mikasa folded her arms, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. Rejection washed over her, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to her room and sleep. Or cry. Maybe even both. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have come here. I'll leave you alone now."

Her hand was on the doorknob when Levi's settled on her shoulder. "Wait."

She didn't turn, unable to look him in the eye – tonight or maybe ever again – but she did still on the spot. "Yes?"

"Stay."

"What?"

"You heard me. Stay." He cleared his throat. "It's not an order. You don't have to. But-I mean, you're compromised. Hell knows what could happen to you in this state. I'd rather you stayed somewhere you can be supervised. You're too valuable a soldier to lose."

It was a weak excuse, and yet it was enough for Mikasa to let go of the doorknob and smile to herself. "If you think it's best, then who am I to argue?"

So Mikasa stayed. She slept soundly until dawn, when Levi woke her up with hot tea and his usual apathetic demeanour. She greeted him with a similar attitude, and they agreed to never speak of the previous night again. But she never made any promise to not _think_ about it anymore – and she did; often.

She made one promise that day however, silently and to herself. She'd never play another game of truth or dare again. And when she got to breakfast and the others asked how she went with her dare, she lied and told them she'd gone straight to bed.


End file.
